Evil Within You
by TygerZ
Summary: Sometimes there's hope, but this time there wasn't. He had been made to serve the Dark Lord, no one could change this- not anymore. Sometimes, love is dark. You don't always get the love story you wanted. Instead, you get something like this. H/D. SLASH
1. Prologue

**A/N: This story is dedicated to my friend Lesley, who gave me the plot bunny of evil!draco… and then asked me to make him fall in love with Harry. **

**Sadly (and a little scarily), the idea actually gave me a plot and it stuck in my brain and wouldn't leave. Evil!draco is certainly fun. However, I'm not sure she'll be getting the H/D part. We'll have to see. **

**But just in case… WARNING: THIS STORY IS SLASH. Don't like it, don't read it. **

**Now… on to the show!**

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His forearm was burning. He clenched at it, rolling onto his side. He could not answer its' call now; he was sure that he wouldn't be missed. The Dark Lord understood that he could not leave Hogwarts, the old fool Dumbledore would be sure to notice. The only reason he had been recruited so early was to watch over Hogwarts anyway, and the Dark Lord had other wars of getting his report then calling him.

But knowing all this wouldn't stop the searing pain through his left arm. He cursed and got out of bed, heading over to his trunk. He opened it and dug for the pain-relieving potion, quietly thanking Snape for supplying him with these. He threw back his head and swallowed it quickly; no matter how many times he took the stuff, he would never get used to it.

He wandered over to the window on the far side of the small room. He had been shocked to hear that he was Head Boy, and therefore received his own room, he had been sure that it would be Potter who got the honor. He had spent some time wondering if there had been a few strings pulled to get him here. It was, after all, very useful, considering his mission for the Dark Lord.

There was a shadow moving across the grounds, the movement caught his eye immediately. He squinted through the darkness, pressing his pale, pointed face to the glass. He couldn't make out the shape of the shadow. He blinked, trying to refocus his eyes, but by then, the figure had gone. He scanned the grounds, but they were deserted.

But before he could feel puzzled, his armed seared again, as if for a warning. He shouldn't be caring about this; why did It matter? It was probably only some stray creature anyway.

Sniffing distastefully at his momentary foolishness, he left the window and returned to his bed. With a dull ache in his left arm, the small bit that he hadn't been able to silence with a potion, he fell asleep.

The ceiling in the Great Hall that morning was a cloudy gray. This was causing an amount of dismay at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, who had a Quidditch game later that day. He smirked at their antics, they were all so childish.

"Draco," someone was saying, "Draco, are you listening?"

He turned his focus to the person sitting next to him, who happened to be Pansy.

"What?" He snapped.

"Potter's watching you."

He turned his head sharply. Of course, it wasn't only Potter who was watching him, the whole Golden Trio was, but Potter was the only one worth mentioning. Weasley and the Mudblood followed everything that Potter did, it was a given that they would be watching him too.

The three were glaring at him. Catching Potter's eye, he smirked at him, before turning away.

"Aren't you going to go over there?" Pansy said, staring at Draco as though she had never seen anyone like him before. "Don't you want to know what they're up to?"

"No," Draco said, beginning to eat his breakfast.

Pansy was still staring at him and he had to resist the urge to turn to her and throttle her. When would she see that the Draco from last year, the one who got in petty fights with Potter and secretly wished that Potter had not denied his hand of friendship, was gone? He understood what he hadn't then, that school fights with Potter didn't matter. The real fight was coming later, and any form of friendship with would only end in betrayal on his part. And Draco wouldn't want it to end differently .

His alliance was purely to the Dark Lord now.

However, he couldn't say this to Pansy, because there wasn't enough words in the world to make her understand. He figured that she would find her place beside the Dark Lord soon enough , or suffer the consequences. It wasn't like it would be a surprise to her anyway, most Slytherins there had been raised knowing their future, one that started and ended with serving the Dark Lord.

Someday, she'd understand that whatever Potter was angry at him for didn't _matter_, because Potter was going to die someday soon anyway. After all, Potter's fate had been set in stone as clearly as Draco's.

If the Dark Lord wanted to kill Potter, he'd do it.

And Draco would be glad to see it happen.

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**A/N: Like it? Hate it? **

**Let me know! I'm not 100% sure I'll be continuing this… so let me know if you think I should. **


	2. We'll See

As Head Boy, he was allowed to be out after curfew. He spent this time wandering the castle, pretending to look for other students out of bed, but instead, he was just _walking_. It was a strange feeling, almost one of sleepwalking. It was the time where he allowed himself to remember the Hogwarts he had seen when he was eleven, when it was still new and exciting. Now, of course, he saw it for what it was. It was a place for kids, and he was no longer a kid. He had lost that innocence that last summer.

Draco did not regret it. It was the only way to get into the Dark Lord's ranks and he knew he would be doing more once he graduated. That summer, before he was allowed to take the mark, he had to kill. It was a simple muggle killing, they didn't trust him with much more, but it had ended anything that he still had of a childhood. No one could call him a silly child anymore. He was equal to the other Death Eaters now.

A noise around the corner made him jump out of his thoughts and, for a moment, anger flared inside him for this time he had to himself being interrupted. But the anger quickly died, being replaced by a twisted smile on is face. He may not come out at night looking for students out of bed, but that didn't mean he would ignore it when he found it.

He quickened his pace, turning the corner only to come face to face with a second year Hufflepuff. He narrower his eyes as she flinched at his sudden presence, her eyes widening.

"Do you know what time it is?" He asked coldly, enjoying the look of terror in her eyes. He had no doubt that the rumors going around about him had reached Hufflepuff.

She seemed to be unable to speak.

"Detention," he said shortly. "And thirty points from Hufflepuff."

She nodded, turning around quickly to hurry away from him.

"What's your name?" He called out to her, causing her to freeze and turn slowly back towards him.

"Nira Golding," She said quietly.

"I'll make sure to pass that on," he said, causally scratching his left forearm.

Her eyes widened again, this time to the size of saucers.

With a dry laugh, he turned away from her and started his journey back to the common room.

He wasn't going to go to the Dark Lord. He wasn't that stupid, he merely said it to freak her out and see the look on her face. The Dark Lord had more important things to hear from him then the late night outings of some Hufflepuff.

But he wouldn't forge the name. Just in case.

A part of him wished that it was Potter who was having late night excursions. That would be something worth telling the Dark Lord. It would also e worth something to think about.

He was beyond most of the people here. Potter was the only one he hadn't quite figured out yet.

Yes, he knew that Potter was stupid, rash, ridiculously loyal and wore his heart on his sleeve. He knew that he was worthless at potions, fell asleep during History of Magic (not to say that Draco _didn't_) and that he actually cared about the idiot half-breed Hagrid. But somehow, this didn't all add up in a way that made sense to him. What made people flock to him? What exactly was it that seemed to project from those green eyes, giving hope and warmth to everyone when they were lit, and making everyone ache when they were dull?

Harry Potter was a mystery. One that Draco intended to crack before the Dark Lord had Potter killed.

This knowledge would only make Potter's death that much sweeter.

He got back to his room not much later. Glancing out the window as he made his way to bed, a shadow moving across the grounds caught his eyes again. Thoughtlessly, his mind jumped to Potter. But by the time he got to the window completely, so that he could once again press his face to the glass, the shape was gone.

He cursed himself for letting his imagination run away with him. More then anything, he was disturbed at how much Potter was on his mind lately. He wasn't _that _interesting.

But Draco wasn't tired, and he didn't want to think about it anymore. Changing quickly, he laid down and soon fell asleep.

"Malfoy." A voice said, close to his ear, before someone rammed into his shoulder.

He turned, snarling, meeting Potter at eye level. He was glaring at Draco, and holding out a page that Draco recognized from the Daily Prophet.

"What the hell is this?" Potter said.

Draco took it from him, his eyes glancing over a picture of Weasley's mother crying in front of their house as she tried to push the reporters away.

He didn't read the article. He knew what it would say.

He pushed the paper back into Potter's hands.

"What about it?"

"What about it?" Harry hissed, his green eyes flashing. "You got Mr. Weasley arrested."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Like I actually did anything Potter. All I did was mention a few words to my father. He was the one who wrote the letter–"

"He didn't do a thing," Harry said, "but they're throwing him in Azkaban. This _is _your fault."

Draco grabbed Potter's shoulder, forcing him into the wall behind him.

"So what if I did, Potter?" He spat into Potter ear. "I gave you a warning, didn't I? On the train, six years ago. I told you that you picked the losing side. It's not my fault you can't listen."

Potter seemed to growl, he pushed angrily at Draco, forcing Draco off of him.

"We'll see, Malfoy." He said, his face flushed. "We'll see who picked the wrong side."

He stalked off, probably to go rant to the other part of the golden trio. Draco watched him go, smirking.

"Yes, we'll see," Draco said, but only loud enough for himself to hear. "Though it's going to be hard to say I told you so when you're dead, Potter."

He tossed his head, smirking now to himself, and continued walking to class.

Maybe this mystery of Potter wouldn't be as hard to figure out as he thought it would be.

He had already thought of a plan.

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**A/N: Ok… so this chapter title has, sadly, has become the motto of this story. Pretty much all the people I talked to about where this story will go, I've said: We'll See. Sometimes multiple times in a conversation. So… yes, here it is again. **

**I hope everyone liked this chapter! I'm not sure how often I'll be able to get chapters out, but the more you review… the faster I'll end up writing! **

**It's funny how life works like that, non? lol**


	3. I Saw You

**A/N: So here's the next chapter!! I hope you like it and don't forget to tell me what you think. Thanks to all those who have already reviewed… *tosses cookie at reviewers*. XD**

**Enjoy--**

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"Draco," the name was like a whisper. He wouldn't have believed it existed if he hadn't felt the burn in his arm at the sound.

He straightened in the desk that sat in his room. He stared into the mirror on the back of the desk, waiting for the Dark Lord's face to appear.

He tried not to flinch when it did.

"Yes," he answered.

"You have news for me?"

Draco nodded.

"Yes, my Lord," he said, "Dumbledore has canceled the Hogsmeade trip this weekend."

The Dark Lord's eyes flashed.

"Do you think he knows?"

"No," Draco said, shaking his head, "I believe he just suspects. He can't possibly know our plan to attack Hogsmeade."

The Dark Lord was frowning slightly.

"Very well then," he said finally. "We'll just have to postpone. Is that all then, Draco?"

"Yes, my Lord."

The Dark Lord nodded, and then his face was gone.

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There was a noise coming from the Forbidden Forest. He felt his heart jump, and his eyes scanned the dark trees, but he did not see anything. He shook his head and rolled his eyes at his own jumpiness.

He continued walking until he reached the black late. Sitting down beside it, he stared out across the lake.

He didn't know how much time was passing. The darkness somehow calmed him, more so then being where he was supposed to be.

The stars were dull that night, but the air was warm. He leaned over the water, inhaling the sweet smell of the lake water. He eyes looked down and he caught a his reflection.

A reflection with jet black hair and shocking green eyes.

His eyes flew open. The lake was gone; it was just his room now. He rolled onto his stomach, straining to keep the dream from slipping out of his memory. He had been at the Black Lake, just like the dark figure he had been seeing the last few nights….

And he had been Potter.

He jumped out of bed, his mind reeling. He crossed quickly to the window, but nothing was there. There wasn't a shape moving across the grounds, or sitting by the lake. He hadn't really expected there to be either, he usually saw them earlier than now.

He could, though he doubted this, be imagining it all. He couldn't explain why he felt so sure that he wasn't.

He assumed the part of him that was sure was the same part of him that was now sure that the dark figure was Potter. Logically, his reason for this made no sense. It could be anyone, his dream didn't prove anything.

But he didn't want to think too much about the dream right then. The thought that he had dreamt of Potter at all was disturbing.

Sighing, he gave up at staring out the window and went back to bed.

He would get Potter to confess that morning.

It wasn't as hard as he had thought. He knew getting Potter to prove Draco's theory wouldn't be that hard, but there was no way that he could have guessed that it would be _that_ easy. He usually wasn't overestimating Potter. It was a strange feeling.

He cornered him after potions. He waited until Weasley and Granger had gone and left Potter packing his potions things, something they were doing more and more of since they had started dating. Draco preferred not to think about this; the thought of the two of them reproducing made him want to throw up.

"Potter," he said, glancing quickly around them to make sure that no one was within listening distance.

Potter glanced up at him, but didn't say anything. Close up, Draco could see bags under his eyes. He looked exhausted.

"I know what you're doing."

Potter raised his eyebrows at him.

"Do you mean packing up my potions things," He said quietly, "because that one is a bit obvious."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"No, Potter," he said, "I don't. What I mean is, I know it's you that is sneaking onto the grounds at night."

Potter went white.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, avoiding Draco's eyes. He grabbed his book bag and shoved past Draco. Draco smirked after him.

"Oh, I'm sure you don't," he drawled. "You really are the world's worst liar, Potter."

He stopped walking, but didn't turn back around to face Draco. Draco stared at his back, waiting for him to fire back a retort, but after a few seconds, he only heard him sigh deeply and continue walking.

He smirked again, but a part of him was curious. Where was the rash Potter that would have at least punched him by now? Potter had no business being sullen and quiet when Draco wanted a fight with him.

He also found it strange that he wanted a fight at all. He had thought he had grown past this. Could it be that Potter was maturing and Draco wasn't?

He almost laughed out loud at the thought. Of course that wasn't true. The day that Potter was more mature than him would be the day Weasley became new savior of the Wizarding World.

He shook his head, still smiling to himself, and left the potions room.

Around the corner, leaning against the wall, was Potter. His head snapped up when Draco walked by, and Draco's mouth nearly fell open. Why would Potter by waiting for him; for that appeared to be what he was doing.

"Malfoy, wait." He said, pushing himself off of the wall and crossing over to him.

"What do you want, Potter?" He said. "I thought we had finished this?"

Potter continued as though Draco hadn't spoken at all.

"How did you know?" Harry asked.

Draco opened his mouth, ready to lie, but the look of desperation in Potter's eyes stopped him. He stood for a moment, transfixed by the emotion shown in that brilliant green, before snapping out of it.

"I saw you," he said simply, still watching Potter's eyes.

The desperation didn't disappear, but it did fade. Draco couldn't tell what it was replaced with.

"You won't tell anyone?"

Draco shook his head. It was better to have something to hold over Potter's head, he knew this.

A new emotion came, and this one Draco could name.

Relief.

Potter nodded and wordlessly walked away. Draco watched him go, feeling a strange emptiness at the loss of the sight of those eyes.

He wanted to see more of them, of what they could express. He had never seen eyes that clear.

The more he thought about it, the more attractive the idea became to him. He decided to do something about it; something that would give him what he wanted and possibly hurt Potter also in the process.

Draco was already curious about Potter. This definitely couldn't hurt.

What, after all, was a kiss?


End file.
